


Witchers are Bad at Math

by OhNoMyBreadsticks



Series: Bready's Melting Pot [6]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Background Geralt/Jaskier (the Witcher), Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Roughhousing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:46:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25556815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhNoMyBreadsticks/pseuds/OhNoMyBreadsticks
Summary: No one's ever tested Lambert's mathematical abilities, nor his flirting prowess. Both might end up being a bitlessthan he'd like, but surely things will work out anyways, right?
Relationships: Eskel & Jaskier | Dandelion, Eskel/Lambert (The Witcher), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Lambert
Series: Bready's Melting Pot [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1784857
Comments: 6
Kudos: 53
Collections: Melting Pot Prompts





	Witchers are Bad at Math

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the melting pot prompt challenge my favorite little server is running. The prompt for this fic was “The risk I took was calculated.... But boy am I bad at math” which is a phrase taken from the Mincing Mockingbird's 'Guide to Troubled Birds' series. I absolutely recommend googling them because they make me laugh like nothing else XD
> 
> fun fact: I have the magnet with this phrase at my office at work

Wintering at Kaer Morhen for the Wolf school used to mean training, and lots of it. Not only was it important to keep their skills up for the coming year, but it was also a good way to pass the time. Before Jaskier had arrived, there really hadn’t been much else to keep them occupied. Now that they had a bard in the castle there were days filled with tales and laughter and other intellectual pursuits. There were still days where they trained, but it wasn’t the only activity they could all turn to to stay entertained. Eskel in particular seemed to enjoy this new peace, letting his tired bones rest in the sun while he and Jaskier discussed poetry or composed limericks together.

Still, for Lambert it seemed like there was nothing like roughhousing across the courtyard, swords and signs flashing in the early spring sun. He was always trying to bait Geralt into training (fighting) with him, tempting him away from staring at Jaskier for the entirety of the winter like he wanted. Sometimes it didn’t work, and Geralt would bat him away to return to his bard’s side, but sometimes, like today, he’d get Geralt roaring in annoyance and tearing after him across the courtyard. 

It was unclear what Lambert had said or done to get Geralt going like this, but he was getting exactly what he wanted. Swords forgotten, they were hitting at each other with their bare hands, Geralt boxing at Lambert’s ears when he could reach him, and Lambert pushing at Geralt’s back to shove him off balance. Occasionally they’d clash together, wrestling until one of them got the upper hand and escaped again, dashing to safety. Their yells and curses filled the air, drifting over to where Eskel and Jaskier were sitting together and going over the basics of musical scales. 

Jaskier glanced up at one of Lambert’s particularly loud yells, watching as he attempted a rather obvious sweep of Geralt’s legs and got pushed onto his ass in the dirt for his troubles. The two were a delight to watch, in his opinion, especially because Geralt was never more gorgeous than when he was in motion. Glancing over, Jaskier could see that Eskel, although feigning indifference, was also shooting furtive glances in the direction of the fighting.

“It’s sweet how he shows off for you. Always starting shit with Geralt when he knows you can see him fight.” Jaskier said, deciding to stop beating around the bush. It was all so obvious, to him, despite Geralt’s insistence that he was imagining things. The way Eskel looked at him with barely disguised panic and fake outrage was only more proof in Jaskier’s opinion that he was absolutely correct. The Witcher doth protest too much and all that.

“That’s stupid.” Eskel huffed, turning his gaze away once more, “Lambert’s just an idiot who can’t sit still for more than two minutes at a time. That has nothing to do with me.” 

The strange hint of self-deprecation and melancholy (did Eskel hope every day that Lambert might sit down and join them in their quiet time?) made Jaskier’s heart ache. He was about to say something to argue, to tell Eskel about all the things he noticed Lambert doing to try and get his attention, when his thoughts were rudely interrupted by a yelp of pain and a loud thud. From what he could see of the aftermath, it seemed like Lambert had attempted to take a running leap off of one of the lower walls to try and land on Geralt, but had instead landed face first in the dirt.

Before Jaskier could say or do anything, Eskel was up and running, sprinting over to where Lambert lay. Soon, Geralt and Jaskier were crowding around as well, but it was Eskel who turned Lambert over and began frantically inspecting him for injuries. There was going to be a big bruise on his head and probably some scratches and scrapes on his hands where he had tried to catch himself, but his eyes were fluttering open so he wasn’t dead or seriously concussed. 

“You fucking moron!” Eskel snapped, surprising everyone, including Lambert, “How reckless can you be!? You’re a witcher, not an acrobat, you can’t just go flinging yourself off of walls!” His hands were fisted in Lambert’s doublet, the shaking just subtle enough that only Lambert could feel it. Stupidly, still half stunned by the fall and the surprise of opening his eyes to see Eskel’s worried face bent over him, Lambert opened his mouth and retorted “I’m not reckless. I perfectly calculated the risks involved in that jump!” 

Eskel was dead silent for what felt like an eternity, his brain clearly coming to terms with the fact that  _ this _ was the man he had chosen to fall for. Then, with a muttered “God you’re so fucking bad at math” Eskel leaned down and shut any further argument up with a passionate kiss. Lambert certainly wasn’t complaining, his good arm coming up to wrap around Eskel and keep him close. Jaskier and Geralt had the good sense to retreat, with Jaskier only gloating a tiny bit to a stunned Geralt. 

There certainly may have been better ways to finally get Eskel’s attention, but Lambert didn’t regret a few botched calculations if this was the result.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this very silly little piece XD 
> 
> Any and all kudos or comments will be loved and cherished <3 I'm available on [tumblr](https://ohnomybreadsticks.tumblr.com/) if you ever feel like chatting or reading some of my lil drabbles, I’d love to see you there C:


End file.
